If it weren't for protection from the sword, Ning Fan might be getting beat up right now.
Thinking of this, the flying sword in Ning Fan's hand twisted and turned, seemingly flaunting itself.
When Ning Fan focused his gaze on it, the sword straightened itself immediately, as if nothing could be more proper than it.
Vivian stood beside Ning Fan, breathing a sigh of relief that he was safe—a scornful look directed at the burly man beside him.
"Hey, even if you win this way, there's no rhyme or reason to it!"
Vivian's voice echoed outside, and the burly man, already annoyed he hadn't seized the opportunity, glanced her way with disdain.
In his eyes, Vivian, who followed Ning Fan, was merely a pretty face with no real ability.
"What do you know? If you don't know, don't babble."
"I don't know? Take a look at your own abilities before judging others, really, you're killing me."
Vivian first widened her eyes in disbelief at being spoken to like that, then smirked coldly at him.
